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“What about going to the underground? Getting the kids? Helping Frederick?” I plead.
“We can distract him better together. He won’t kill you. The kids will still have a parent.”
Dean’s close enough for me to make out his features, and I notice the slight limp when he walks. I straighten, remembering he isn’t without weakness, and I’ve survived this far.
I’m stronger than him.
The men behind him look straight ahead, and there’s nothing in their expressions. They’re lifeless soldiers following his orders.
“I’ve seen this. Dean coming after me in this storm and you… It’s not good. Please go, Sam,” I beg.
He pulls my hand up to his chest, holding it against his beating heart. “No. If it’s just you, he takes you to the ship, then sends those men below, and you know it.”
The maniacal grin stretches on Dean’s face with every step. He’s so close. If he called out to me, I would hear him through the rain.
“If this is it, Rowan.” Sam brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back of my palm. “I’ll be happy knowing I died protecting my family. We will be in this together until my last breath.”
“Rowan!” Dean calls out.
I suck in a breath and stand tall, taking a step forward. Sam matches me, and I hiss for him to get back.
“And Sam,” he calls out, almost laughing. Dean’s twenty steps away, his league of followers trailing behind him.
“How kind of the underground,” he smiles.
Ten steps.
“You’re just… left out on a silver platter?”
Five steps.
“You’ve seen reason,” he tips his head back and yells into the sky. His lips curl up in a wicked smile as he reaches us. “Seen that you can’t survive without me.”
Dean raises one hand in the air, and the men behind him stop while he comes forward. He doesn’t look at Sam when he addresses him. “Not smart being here, Nico — Sam — whoever the fuck you are.”
“I know who I am. I’m Rowan’s husband, and I’m not leaving her.” Sam tells him.
Dean reaches for my face, and Sam’s hand juts out, grabbing him by the forearm, and stopping him from touching me.
That’s when their eyes meet, fire dancing between them. I’m crawling out of my skin, unable to take in a breath, waiting for what happens next. I need a vision or a plan, something to stop the inevitable.
“When we last spoke—” Dean looks at Sam’s fingers wrapped around his skin and raises an eyebrow. Sam doesn’t loosen his grip, so Dean leans forward, meeting him nose for nose, their faces less than an inch apart. “You said I would only find death if I kept looking for you. Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
“Are you a liar?”
Sam swallows hard, tilting his head at Dean’s question, refusing to take the bait. Dean whistles, calling a few men to come to his aid.
“Dean,” I say, keeping my voice calm but loud above the rain. “I’m going with you without a fight. Sam’s here to say goodbye.”
“Restrain this one,” Dean orders, ignoring me. “You all,” he screams to the other men. “Find a way in.” The others move across the ground, a few trailing to the red jumpsuits while a larger group moves inland. They aren’t going the right way, but there’s no way I’ll correct them.
“Dean, I have what you want. I’ll give it to you willingly. Don’t make things complicated.”
Four men circle Sam, who continues to hold on to Dean. I rest my palm on top of his grip. “Dean, I know you need—”
“Don’t give me this bullshit,” he yells. “You’ve done nothing but lie to me, put BeLew in danger. Your friends fucking shot me. You—” He brings his free hand to my neck, wrapping his fingers around my throat. The men Dean called over rip Sam away and hold him back, everything happening in an instant.
